As Soon As You Move
by teamfreewill82
Summary: A normal family vacation is near to impossible when your less-than-normal sister makes it her life's mission to meet the man of her dreams, Damon Salvatore. Elena will just have to deal, she knows, but what happens when an accident sends her on an adventure no one could have anticipated with the man himself?
1. On My Way LA

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Vampire Diaries**_ **or** _ **Starstruck**_ **or anything pertaining to either of these things except my own writing.**

 **A/N: This fic is based on the Disney movie _Starstruck_ , but Delena-fied. Thank you. *smiley **

Elena stood in her bedroom next to the bed, neatly folding her shirts into a pile to be put in her suitcase. Her older sister of 21, Margaret, crossed the bathroom separating their two rooms to poke her head into Elena's.

"Hey, 'Lena? You know that purple floral tank you have?"

Elena looked at Maggie, her face blank. "Whatever. You can borrow it. _Borrow_ , and return my green t-shirt."

"You're the best!" Maggie told her as Elena tossed the shirt into her waiting hands and returned to packing without another word.

"Sure I am," she murmured when Maggie had left. Her phone buzzed with a text with the tone for Bonnie, her best friend, and Elena grabbed it.

 _Hey you! You leave for the airport in three hours! Are you pumped?! #onmywayLA!_

Elena had to smile at the text, but wasn't particularly excited. Going to California for their end-of-summer vacation had been her sister's idea. Elena's had been staying home and relaxing, not gallivanting around the country. Don't get her wrong–she enjoyed having fun, but that's not _all_ Margaret had in mind. She actually wanted to 'run into' her favorite actor, Damon Salvatore. Personally, Elena couldn't stand the guy. He seemed arrogant, shallow–totally self-obsessed. She chose to ignore the charity work he did for marine life as a way of increasing his fame through hugging dolphins.

But here she was, stuck going along with her family to Los Angeles. Elena didn't even like the sun and heat that much; she much preferred soothing rain over sweat.

"Are you girls all packed yet?" her mom, Miranda, called up to them.

"Not quite!" Elena's clock read ten to twelve. They'd have to leave soon if they wanted to catch their plane (which Elena didn't). Nonetheless, she stuffed her toothbrush, hairbrush, and toothpaste into a side pocket of her bag and zipped it closed before calling back down again, "Ready." She grabbed the stack of books from her dresser and shoved them one by one into the bag that also contained her diary and writing pen.

Elena dragged and bumped the bag down the stairs, her satchel-bag swinging loosely on her shoulder as her hair flew in wisps in front of her face. She dropped the bag onto the hardwood floor when she reached the bottom of the stairs just when her mother entered the room. "Great," Miranda said, kissing her daughter's cheek lightly. "Nearly ready to go." Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert's bags were already waiting beside the door, and would soon be packed into the Honda. "I really appreciate you being so good about all this, Elena," her mom added. "I know LA wasn't exactly your first choice."  
"It's fine, Mom," Elena assured her. "I was outvoted. No big deal." Except it kind of was. Not that she'd actually _say_ that. Elena wasn't one to whine. She'd leave that to her sister.

"Come on, hon'. Can you help me fold the laundry?" Miranda asked, though Elena knew she wouldn't be able to actually give a _no_ for an answer. So she only nodded and followed her mom into the living room where the 'news' was playing on the TV. The alleged reporter Andy Starr (could you get any faker?) was just beginning a segment on none other than Damon Salvatore. Margaret ran down the stairs as though being chased by hellhounds and yelled his name. Elena made sure she didn't say aloud what she was thinking– _He isn't_ here _! Why are you so psychotic?!_

"Why do you watch this stuff?" she inquired instead. "I mean, really; it's so pointless and _fake_ –" Margaret shushed her with an acidic glare before whirling back to the screen. Elena rolled her eyes, focusing her own captivated attention on folding a towel from the pile.

"Damon's new movie, _Don't Come Easy_ , premiered last night, where we caught up to the star on the Red Carpet," Andy was going on. Margaret squealed and Elena, her eyes (despite herself) finding the TV, tried to begin folding another towel.

"I really don't know what to say," Damon told Andy in the clip. In the background, girls and boys alike were screaming for Damon and trying to break across the fence. "I'm sort of shocked. The response was insane at the end; I didn't expect the audience to stand and clap. I'd love to tell you all how much you all mean to me, all my fans; it means the world that you support me. No way would I have gotten the role without you." The screen went back to Andy and some of the sparkle left Maggie's eyes, replaced by red hearts as she stared at the wall.

"He's such an amazing person," she said aloud, sounding drugged. "Isn't he?"

"Definitely _not_ amazing," Elena told her. "You think he's this great guy, but you don't even know him. We live in Mystic Falls. _Virginia_."

Margaret scoffed. "Uh, I'm an original member of his fan club, _Elena_! I follow his minute by minute blog posts and I text him every day! Trust me, I know him extremely well and he's probably dying to meet me. Plus, he grew up here. One of these days he could come back and find me…"

Elena frowned and looked to Miranda. "Is it too late for me to be an only child?"

Her mom didn't look up from the laundry as she replied, not for the first time, "Yes." Elena breathed out heavily and continued folding.

"Oh, Mags, are we driving to the charity ball together?" she asked after a second. Their parents were big into fundraising, and this time it was to build a children's hospital in Mystic Falls.

"Uh," Maggie looked at her sister, the thinly veiled disgust evident on her face, "you're not invited."

"Funny, but considering it's a _charity ball_ run by _our parents_ , I can safely I am," said Elena. "Nice try though." Margaret rolled her eyes and looked back at the TV, now bored.

"I'll be upstairs," she announced before leaving the room.

"Mom–"

"No, Elena. Look, I know she doesn't have a chance with that boy," Miranda said, "but let her enjoy the prospect, alright?"

"Even if we all have to endure it?"

" _Yes_."

Time passed by far too quickly for Elena and far too slowly for Margaret. Soon it was time to jump in the car, bags having already been packed inside. Grayson, seated in the driver's side, waited for the women. First one out was Elena, as usual, followed by her sister and mother.

 _Here we go…_


	2. Hit On Me

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Vampire Diaries**_ **or** _ **Starstruck**_ **or anything pertaining to either of these things except my own writing.**

Just outside the doors of the car rental, Elena and her sister were waiting for their parents to get a car and pick them up. The girls had been instructed to wait right where they were for Miranda and Grayson, but within a minute Margaret had gotten bored and seated herself down onto her suitcase. She was currently flipping the pages of her magazine while Elena read from _Gone With the Wind_.

"You brought homework?" Maggie demanded of her. "You're suck a dork."

"I'm reading this for _fun_. You call _that_ reading? This–" Elena fingered the pages of the magazine, "is all pictures."

"Don't touch that!" her sister snapped, yanking it away.

Elena rolled her eyes and stood up straight. "Gladly."

Margaret huffed out a breath. "Ugh; what's taking them so long? Just get a damn car already; Damon could be anywhere!"

"You can't drive the car anyway."

Margret looks at her sister as though she were dense. "Uh, yes I can. License?"

"Uh, no you can't. Sign?" Elena pointed to a sign behind Maggie, of which Maggie read aloud.

"You must be at least 25 years old to drive or rent a car from Los Angeles car rental? What?" She spun back around. "How the hell am I supposed to do what _I_ wanna do?"

Just then, their parents pulled up in their rental. "And that would be?"

Margaret blanched. "Uh–take Elena sightseeing, of course."

"I think Grandma has a car she'd let you borrow," Miranda said with a smile. They would all be staying at Grayson's mother's home, and while it annoyed Maggie (though she loved Joyce) due to her need to stay in an expensive hotel, Elena couldn't be happier. Seeing her grams was the absolute only upside to LA.

The offer of her grandma's car making the attempt at a smile fail miserably, Margaret instead exposed her teeth in a grimace. "Uh… sweet…"

After hellos were shared, Margaret disappeared into her guest-bedroom to cyber-stalk Damon. She had received a call from her friend, Mary, nearly five minutes after she'd begun, however, and was just hanging up the phone when Elena leaned against the doorframe.

"Grandma says to stop pacing," Elena informed her. "You're creating a draft."

Ignoring this, Maggie exclaimed, "I just got a call from Mary! She just had a chat, about a text, according to a blog, about Damon Salvatore. He's going to be at the club Under 21 tonight! For his best friend's birthday!"

Elena raised her eyebrows. "What a creative name for an under 21 club. But considering that isn't at all relevant to what I just said, I'm leaving."

"No, Elena, I have to go!" Maggie said desperately. "Go with me! Mom and dad won't let me go unless you go too!"

"How many times do I have to repeat the same thing to you, Margaret? I don't care about meeting Damon Salvatore! I don't care, no matter how much you insist on talking about him!" Elena turned to leave again, but her sister spoke up.

"I'll shut up!"

Elena hesitated. "What?"

Maggie nodded quickly. "If you go with me tonight, I'll shut up about him. For the rest of the trip."

"Uh-huh, and the rest of your life?"

"Please, Elena?"

Across the street from the club, Elena frowned at her sister. "What d'you think you're doing? This is a no parking zone!"

As she climbed into the backseat to change her outfit of sweatpants and sweatshirt, Margaret replied huffily, "It's not parking if a person stays in the car."

"We'll get a ticket, genius! As if we really need that right now."

"Just get in the driver's seat, 'Lena!"

Elena, albeit reluctantly, did so. She was just settling in when Margaret jumped out of the car. She had seen someone Elena couldn't place–a finely dressed young man, standing in front of the club doors as pictures were taken of him.

"He's here," Maggie announced. "Wish me luck." She fixed her hair excitedly and hurried over, inserting herself into a picture with the man. _Oh_ , Elena realized, _it's Alaric. Damon's friend._ Her sister took his hand and pulled him inside, disappearing in the crowd.

"Great," Elena said aloud sarcastically. "What a waste of my night." It was a few minutes later that she checked her cell in the hopes of finding a text from her sister. Nothing. Of course. Elena grabbed her bag and got out of the car, not caring about receiving a ticket. She so did not have time for this.

Walking behind the club, she looked for another way to get inside that wouldn't draw attention to her. There was a door, but just as she was about to open it, someone did just that from the inside of the building. It hit Elena square in the forehead, the impact sending her backwards onto the concrete.

A male voice, panicked, sounded then. "Holy–Did I just hit you?" Huddled on the ground and holding her hand to her throbbing head, Elena somehow managed sarcasm.

"No, the door hit me all by itself!"

Still alarmed, the man continued, "This is not good."

"For who, you or me?" Elena asked. "Cuz right now, this seems a hell of a lot worse for me."

He ignored her. "This is really not good."

Elena looked at the stranger fully then and, seeing his face, she realized that she recognized him. Her eyesight may have been blurring in and out, but Elena definitely knew that face: from the television.

"Wait–" she said, "you're–Dam–"

He covered her mouth with his hand and whispered, "Yeah, I am. I'll get you tickets to whatever movie you want if you don't scream my name right now."

Elena shoved his hands off, agitated. "Yeah, right. I don't need any stupid tickets!" A sharp pain pierced through her skull and she winced, reflex sending her hand up to support it. "Ow…"

A car pulled up outside of the alley and Damon breathed out, relieved. "Okay, you need to see a doctor. Can you stand?"

Elena responded by attempting to get to her feet, but stumbled a bit. He wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her to the car. Elena shook her head when they reached it. "What about–my sister?" Damon looked at her blankly. "My sister, Margaret. She's still in there somewhere."

"What happened?" the same guy from before asked, climbing out of the car's front seat.

"Really not the time, 'Ric. Help now, questions later, alright?" Alaric shook his head but opened the passenger's side door for Elena.

"Okay… Just get in the car then." Elena did so, with help from Damon, and Alaric turned to him. "Who is this girl?" Damon shrugged, realizing that that was probably a good thing to know.

"What's your name?" he asked Elena.

"Elena," she told him, frowning.

"Nice to meet you, Elena." He was smiling, but she replied in a bitter tone, "I could think of nicer ways." Damon tried to keep his smile on as he looked to Alaric. "Keys. And make sure Margaret gets home safely, alright? Thanks, man. See you at home. And–don't tell anyone about this."

Elena looked up at the guys. "Um, I don't feel so good."

Alaric's eyes widen and he tried, "Don't–"

Elena threw up on the concrete next to them and Damon closed his eyes. He shut her door and left an openmouthed Alaric as he climbed into the drivers' seat.

"Follow the light with your eyes," Doctor Nelson instructed Elena, pointing a small flashlight into her eyes. After a moment, he said, "Well, the CT was normal, reactions are fine. Everything looks good."

Damon poked his head through the curtain. "So she's fine?"

"Out," the doctor ordered without looking his way. Damon rolled his eyes, pulling his head back through. To Elena, the doc went on, "There's no sign of serious head trauma, and no concussion."

Eyebrows furrowed, Elena asked him, "Then why did I throw up earlier?"

He smiled a bit. "Maybe from something you ate, or a reaction to meeting that doofus."

"It's a curtain, Jack, I can hear you," Damon told the doctor pointedly, once again unblocked by the shade.

"No, no you can't."

Elena looks between them, confused. "Wait, you two know each other?"

Damon shrugged. "My cousin's husband."

Elena looked back at Jack. "So, I can leave now? If I'm okay?"

"Yes, but I want to give you an icepack for that bump. Be right back."

Damon's phone began to ring but he kept his gaze on Elena. With an unamused raise of both eyebrows, Elena said, "You gonna answer that…?" He pulled the cell phone out as if he hadn't heard it until that moment.

Back to his place outside the curtain, he said into the phone, "Sarah; what's up? What? Where? Now? Okay. _Okay_. I'll… be right there." Damon again pulled back the curtain and informed her, "My cousin," with another eye roll. "She's telling me I need to show up at the party she's throwing at _my_ place."

"Yeah, that might be a problem…" Jack told him, coming back into the room. Damon looked at him questioningly. "…considering there are big guys with big cameras filling up my waiting area."

"The paparazzi found me?" Damon smoothed his hands over his face for a second before looking to Elena and then back to Jack. "What kind of car are you driving?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm still paying off six years of medical school. I doubt you'd be interested in it." Elena watched their conversation with an icepack held to her forehead.

"Okay, a trade?"

Jack scoffed. "No way."

"Come on." Damon held up his keys. "Only happens once."

Jack thought for a moment before giving in. "Fine."

Having snuck out through the back exit, Damon and Elena were just pulling out of the parking lot in Jack's old clunker. Its back bumper was falling off and scraping along the ground, creating sparks.

"Um, is this even safe?" Elena asked Damon, her body jumping in her seat as the car sped over a pothole.

"Pretty sure."

"Considering I don't feel like dying tonight, that is seriously the opposite of helpful!"

He glanced at her then back to the road. "Just calm down, okay?"

"I don't wanna calm down. I want to go _home_."

"Why are you so angry at me?"

"I'm _not_ angry!"

Damon tapped the steering wheel, aggravated. "Oh, right, so just defensive then?"

She stared at him. "I'm not defensive!"

"You disagree with everything I say."

"That's cuz everything you say is wrong!"

"Of course it is; because you've known me for a whopping ten minutes!"

"Just take me home!"

"I _will_! Just… we've gotta make one stop first."


	3. Crash Here

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Vampire Diaries**_ **or** _ **Starstruck**_ **or anything pertaining to either of these things except my own writing.**

Pulling up in front of the house (more like mansion), Elena's usually brilliant poker face was unable to conceal her gawking. She climbed out of the car.

"You actually live here?"

Damon glanced at her, shrugging. "Yeah. Why?" He pulled her by the waist across the driveway/parking lot and she tried to keep her feet still.

"Where are we going? Damon!"

"Sorry; I just–I don't know, alright?"

"Don't know where you can hide me?"

"No, it's just… We can't have _these_ particular people seeing you at this particular moment."

"Because I'm not a movie star, like you," Elena said. She tried to walk away, even though she'd have no idea where to go, but Damon took her arm and she had to stop.

"The people in there aren't just… my friends. Not even really my friends at all. They're news reporters and paparazzi and if they see us together, they'll start asking questions that we don't want to answer, like 'How long have you two been dating?' or 'Where'd you meet?'"

Elena gave him an incredulous look. "Dating?"

Damon nodded seriously. "They make it up as they go. And act… famous." He pulled her through the door and they ducked their heads. He brought her upstairs and opened the door to a room. "My guest room. Be my guest."

"Is there a choice B here?"

"No, not really," he said, already starting to close the door. "But please, just stay. I'll be right back." Elena sighed, dropping onto the bed, satchel in her lap. She took out her journal and pen.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Well. I'm sitting here in Damon Salvatore's guest bedroom. Don't believe me? Sorry I have no proof for you. God. I wouldn't be in this mess right now if my sister hadn't dragged me to that club. I'm going to be grounded for the rest of my life._

Elena replaced the diary back in her bag and looked around. Noting the balcony, she went to open its doors and step outside. The breeze of cool air felt very refreshing on her flushed cheeks, allowing Elena to calm down the slightest bit. Down below in the expansive patio backyard, she could see Damon chatting, with groups of people at one time.

A man holding the hand of a young girl, probably around ten and somewhat shy, was talking to him now. Damon was smiling and, after the girl's father said a few words to him, he turned his smile to the girl. He bent down to be level with her, saying something that made her giggle.

Damon looked up at her dad instead of standing erect and the man pulled a notepad from his back pocket, along with a pen. He handed the two to Damon, who wrote on the pad before giving it to the girl, the pen back to her father. She smiled widely, no longer shy, and hugged Damon happily. Grinning, he returned the hug.

With a glance up, he saw Elena watching from the balcony and sent a smile her way, which she found herself doing as well. She walked back into the guest room, however, and closed the doors, making his smile falter. He talked to a few other people before heading back inside. Elena was still waiting in the bedroom when he got there, fortunately.

"Okay, ready?"

She eyed him as though he were crazy. "I've been ready this whole night," she told him. They walked from the room down the stairs and into the garage, exposing at least 15 sports vehicles lined up on either side. "Why do you have so many cars?" she asked Damon in astonishment.

"They're gifts I've acquired. Pick one."

"Yeah, right."

He shook his head tiredly. "Fine, then we'll walk. Where does your grandma live again?"

"Hollywood."

"Great. We'll get there. On Tuesday."

"Fine," Elena snapped, "but you have to bring me straight home. Okay? No more pit-stops." She got in the car and Damon sighed, following suit. He switched on the radio and a song from his newest movie was already conveniently playing, which he began to sing along to.

She stared at him. "Really?"

He turned it down. "What? I like that song; I thought you would too."

"Right. You probably thought it's every fan's dream to be sitting in a car with Damon Salvatore while he sings along to the soundtrack from his newest blockbuster hit. There's just one problem."

"That would be?"

"I'm not a fan."

His eyes slid away from the road for a second to look at her, appearing the tiniest bit hurt and surprised. "You don't like my work?"

She shrugged. "It's not so much your work as it is you."

"You don't even know me."

"I don't have to. Anyone who enjoys billions of girls screaming just when they enter a room must be pretty shallow." Damon appeared as though he wanted to say more, but Elena didn't let him. "Turn here," she said. They were quiet for the remainder of the drive.

Pulling into her grandma's driveway, Elena turned to him for the first time. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. And I want to apologize for this whole… ride around town tonight."

"No big deal. I'll… be seeing you. Bye." He held his hand up in a wave as she got out of the car. She opened the door to her grandma's house with her key, quietly shutting it behind her. Damon leaned back in his seat and, with a glance sent behind him, his eyes widened. Paparazzi.

Inside, Elena was sipping water when she heard a knock at the door. Her eyebrows came together in confusion as she set down the glass. She opened the door a crack.

"Damon?" she whispered in surprise.

"Look, the paparazzi are here and I need a place to crash. If you do me this one favor, I'll give you five thousand dollars."

Incredulously, Elena retorted, "It isn't a favor if you're paying me to do it."

"Is that a yes?" he asked hopefully.

She sighed. "We'll push your car into the garage. I'll open the door from the inside; you wait out front for me. Got it?" He nodded and she shut the back door before jogging across the kitchen to go out to the garage. Once outside, Elena opened the garage door, lifting from the bottom, and used her arms to push it all the way up when it had gone high enough. Damon was leaning against the side of the house with his arms crossed, tapping his fingers anxiously against his arm.

They went around to the back of the car and shoved, both as hard as possible.

"You could help a little."

"Oh, please, superstar, this thing wouldn't be moving if I wasn't pushing it."

A few minutes later, the car was sitting inside the garage and Elena was pulling down a sleeping bag from the metal shelf while standing on a ladder.

"You have to be gone by morning, Damon. I don't need my family discovering this car, or you, in here tomorrow."

"No one will know I was ever here," he assured her. She climbed down and faced him.

"I'll know," she pointed out, stuffing the sleeping bag into his arms.

Already moving on, Damon motioned towards the shelves. "Hey, is there anything up there that I can wear when I leave, so the paparazzi don't recognize me?" Elena gestured to a couple boxes and Damon reached inside one of them to reveal an old white fedora with a single black strip circling it. He set it on his head. "What d'you think?" A smile was tugging at Elena's lips. "What? That bad, huh?"

She shook her head. "No, it's just… That was my grandfather's old hat. He was in a band when he was younger, and he wore that all the time."

"Oh, sorry, here." He held out the hat to her but she waved it away.

"No, it's fine. Keep it. Looks kinda good on you." He put the fedora back on and Elena cleared her throat. "Anything else?"

"No. I'm good."

She crossed her arms. "Yeah. So good that you're sleeping in your car." When she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm.

"Hey, Elena." He smiled charmingly at her and the teen had to hold back a laugh.

"Stop doing that."

He looked at her innocently. "Stop what?"

"You know what–that eye thing you do," Elena said. "You probably do it all it the time–one look and all the girls fall for you. Not sorry to say it doesn't work on me. If I were you, I'd get over it." He only smiled at her retreating form as she reentered the house.


	4. Grab Your Shades and Let's Go for a Ride

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Vampire Diaries**_ **or** _ **Starstruck**_ **or anything pertaining to either of these things except my own writing. I also don't own the title of this chapter, which is a line from the song Something About the Sunshine from the movie.**

It was the following morning (or rather, a few hours later) that Elena was awakened by the wafting smells of bacon, pancakes, and eggs. She got ready for the day and quickly dressed for the day in a navy blue t-shirt and skinny jeans, then headed down the stairs into the kitchen.

"Mornin', sunshine," Grayson piped up when she entered.

"Hey," Elena replied, sitting down.

Maggie frowned at her dry plate of food. "Grandma, is there any syrup?"

"Garage, on the shelf," Joyce told her. Margaret went to stand as Joyce added, "Oh, Mag, get the paper in the driveway, too!"

Elena was about to sip her juice when she remembered the events from hours before. "No! I'll get it!" She hurried after Margaret, who said, without looking at Elena, "How was your little cab ride?"

Elena nearly choked. "Cab ride?"

"Oh, please, Elena, don't play stupid. I was so close to meeting Damon last night, do you know that? Only to have Alaric tell me that I have to leave because you decided to take a _cab_ home?" She opened the garage with the remote, which Elena grabbed from her sister's hand to press the _close_ button.

"Oh, _that_ cab."

"Where the hell did you even go? Or shouldn't I ask?" Margaret snatched the remote back.

"I'll make it up to you, Mags. I'll–help you find him."

"Yeah, right." Margaret clicked _open_. "How are you going to do _that_?"

Elena once again slammed _close_. "Let's just go–um, research it or something. We can go and find him and mom and dad don't even have to know!"

"Don't have to know what?" Grayson inquired, stepping around the side of the house.

"Nothing!" the girls trilled in unison. He gave them a strange look and lifted the garage door manually. Elena winced, but the garage was empty. Grayson walked forward, grabbed the syrup off the shelf, and shook his head when he faced his daughters again.

"I don't understand you girls," he told them before walking back into the house.

Later, Elena was helping clean up the kitchen while her sister 'researched' on the laptop. "Oh, Maggie, they're doing a story on that boy you like," Joyce said suddenly, causing Margaret to jump up excitedly from the kitchen table and fling herself down onto the sofa in her search for the remote. Elena ran for it and tried to turn off the TV, but Maggie was able to grab it from her. She raised the volume in rapt attention.

"Damon Salvatore made a special appearance at his good friend's birthday party last night at the Club Under 21 to surprise her; socialite Caroline Forbes. Although no one saw Damon arrive at the club, witnesses confirm that he was there, seen talking with multiple guests," Andy Starr announced. "An hour later, he magically appeared at his Beverly Hills mansion to attend a party thrown by his cousin, Sarah Nelson, to celebrate his new movie. Party goers informed us that Damon arrived at the party with a girl–unknown, by the looks of it. My sources tell me that this mystery girl may be stealing the heart of our favorite movie star."

Elena took the remote and turned the TV off as soon as Andy stopped speaking.

"Elena, no!" Maggie cried. "I wanted to see that!"

Elena stuffed the remote into the back of her pants. "No, you don't! It's all lies! Honestly, it's _slander_."

Maggie pulled the remote out from her sister's jeans and glared at her. "Why do you even care?" Elena looked away. "You don't even _like_ him!"

"Maybe, but I do happen to care about the truth. Anyone with half a brain could see that the crap they say is the exact opposite."

Miranda came in, then, accustomed to their bickering. "Knock it off, you two."

"It's a beautiful day, girls; take the keys to my car and go to the beach," their grandmother offered, handing Maggie the keys.

"Thanks, grandma!"

Miranda sighed as Margaret ran off. "Take your sister with you!" Maggie, already halfway up the stairs, released an agitated groan. Miranda looked to Elena. " _Go_."

At the beach, Maggie was just parking when Elena said questioningly, looking around, "Maggie, I thought we were going to Venus." She opened her car door and stepped out. "Why are we in Malibu?"

Margaret sighed, opening the trunk of the car. "Because, little sister, Damon Salvatore _surfs_ in Malibu." Walking towards the sand, she continued, "And he's here today. I can feel it." Looking up at the sky, her sister added, "I wonder what his eyes are like up-close."

Elena smiled, remembering the blue-grey sharpness of those eyes the night before. "Blue. Really, really blue." Margaret, as if she hadn't heard her, walked off quickly, leaving Elena alone. Elena looked around and, upon seeing a white and black hat sticking up over a beach chair, grinned, only a little. Seeing an empty chair on the sand next to him, she chirped, "Is this seat taken? No?" Dropping down into it and settling her bag on her knees, Elena looked at him. "It is _such_ a beautiful day. Isn't it a beautiful day?" The man crossed his arms, slouching down into the chair. "Ooh," Elena said, as if in realization, "did I wake you up?" He shook his head as he looked away. "Oh, good. Then would you mind giving me an autograph?" He looked at her.

"Seriously, Elena? How'd you know it was me?"

She grinned at Damon. "The hat. Dead giveaway."

"What're you doing here?" he asked, glancing around.

"My sister's stalking you, remember? And what about you? Go home."

"Hey, I tried. The paparazzi are crowding my street. I have to wait for them to clear out. Or get there in something they won't recognize as mine." He looked at her, trying to smile charmingly (as though he had to try). "So, what're you driving?"

"Oh, you'd love it. Totally vintage."

"Perfect. I could pay you–"

"Stop that!"  
"Stop what?"

"Déjà vu much? Trying to pay me off! You still owe me five grand, anyway, for staying in my garage. Just… give me your keys." She extended a hand.

"Excuse me?"

"If you're taking me and my sister's ride home, we're gonna need another one. Keys."

He rolled his eyes and fished his keys from his pocket, then slapped them down into her open palm. Elena smiled and stood, heading over to where her sister had plopped down. Her ear-buds were in, so Elena was able to switch the keys without Maggie even noticing that she'd been next to her.

Elena and Damon walked to the parking lot, and he followed her to the car. "Meet Petunia," Elena said. "Have her back in an hour." She handed him the keys. Just then, a van full of paparazzi swerved into the beach's lot.

"Shit!" Damon swore, pulling her down behind Petunia. "I can't believe they know where to find me!"

Elena choked on a quiet laugh. "My _sister_ knows where to find you." The paparazzi were getting out of the van as Damon removed his glasses.

"Put these on," he told Elena. She slipped them on wordlessly and he opened the car door for her, which whacked her in the shoulder.

"You've really gotta stop hitting me!" she hissed.

"Sorry, sorry, just get in." She glared at him through his glasses and climbed inside, buckling up. He went to the driver's side and did the same, then added to her, "Put your head down." Elena did so, her head on her thighs. She looked at him sideways and saw that he was opening the car compartment, searching for something.

"What are you doing?" she questioned.

"Here–put this on." He gave her a floral printed scarf.

"Why?" Elena wrapped it around her head.

"They can't recognize you." Damon started the car and pulled out of the spot. A paparazzo went to steal a picture of them, but lowered his camera when he saw that it was just an old couple.

Elena looked at Damon and laughed. "You look like my grandpa."

He grinned. "Well you look like my grandma." Elena laughed again and unraveled the scarf, but left the sunglasses. "Hey, I need those back, you know."

"I'm not so sure, actually. I kinda like them," Elena admitted. This made Damon smile, which in turn made Elena roll her eyes and return his glasses.

"I'll give them to you, later, I swear."

"So, how long do I have to drive around with you this time?"

"Only until the camera crew leaves the beach." Damon looked at Elena, who was staring out the window contentedly. "Hey, let's do something," he suggested. She looked at him, amused.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Anything. What haven't you seen since you got here?"

"Everything. I've been too busy chasing you around."

He tilted his head, eyes bright. "Really?"

"With my sister. She idolizes you. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less."

He lifted his hand to adjust the mirror. "Hey, you don't have to like me, but don't make that an excuse not to see this place. Los Angeles is one of the greatest cities in the world. In fact," he said, with a sideways glance and grin, "I'll be your tour guide."

"I thought you needed to get home."

"I'll take the long way there." He put his glasses on and smiled at the road. Elena shook her head as she looked back out the window, but couldn't help smiling.

At an outdoor market, they stopped to see everything, each station selling something new. Using her disposable camera, Damon snapped a picture of Elena wearing his new hat. He gave her the camera to hold and they continued on their way.

He suggested taking a picture of her posing in front of the Hollywood sign, and Elena grabbed his arm, pulling him into the shot with her.


	5. When People All Stare

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Vampire Diaries**_ **or** _ **Starstruck**_ **or anything pertaining to either of these things except my own writing.** **I don't own the title of this chapter; it's a line from the song Cry by Kelly Clarkson. All the rights for these things go to the rightful owners.**

 **A/N: I'd just like to thank you all so much for your kind words, favorites, and follows. You guys keep me going. Much love to you all.**

Once again in the car, Elena, her cheeks sore from smiling, breathed out happily. "That was perfect! I didn't think I'd have that much fun."

Damon smiled, sparing a quick glance in the rearview mirror, only to have his lips fall into an irked frown. Elena twisted to see behind her; there was the same van of paparazzi from the beach. They were being followed.

"We have to lose those vans, Elena," Damon said.

Her eyes searched the paper map they'd set on the dash. "Okay, next left."

He looked at her. "You sure?"

"Yes!" He swerved left and she repeated, "Next left; the road'll lead back to the highway." Now driving on a trail, Elena frowned. "Um. Okay, maybe not."

"This isn't even a road anymore, Elena!"

She looked out the windows, hoping for some sort of sign. "Just–keep driving!"

"Elena, the last sign was for deer crossing! There aren't any deer here!"

Elena glared at him; she really didn't need more stress on top of what she _already_ felt. "You complain more than my sister!" this made her snap at Damon.

"Are we on the right road or not?"

"I'm thinking not!"

He removed the fedora in order to scrub a hand through his hair. "Just show me the damn map!"

"Keep your eyes on the road! You drive; I navigate!"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Oh, is that what _you_ call it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elena demanded.

"It means you're a freakin' know-it-all!"

"What are you–five?"

"Oh, give me a break; you're the queen of snap judgments!" Elena angrily tied her hair into a band. "'Turn here, Damon, I'm sure of it!'" he mimicked her.

"I _was_ sure of it, jackass!"

"And you're defensive!"

"I am _not_ defensive! Move the car! Why the hell aren't we moving, Damon?" He stepped on the peddle full-force and the car began to sink. Elena's eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me."

Damon climbed out of his car window, and Elena tried to do the same. "Elena, just wait a second; I can help you–"

"Don't touch me!" she bit off.

"Why are you so mad?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said sarcastically. "My grandmother's car is sinking into a mud pool, but that's obviously no big deal to someone with 15 of his own!"

"Turning here wasn't _my_ idea, Elena! What d'you expect me to do?" He stood on top of the car, and a second later Elena pulled herself up to join him.

"Oh, so it's my fault, right?"

"You have the worst sense of direction–"

"You're an awful driver!"

"I'm a great driver; 15 cars, remember?"

"Oh, _right_ –"

Damon shook his head and held up his hands. "Look, we don't have time for this right now. We have to jump." Both pairs of eyes found the ground six feet across from them. In between them and it was the pool of mud.

"I am not jumping!" Elena told him. "Just use the tree branch as a bridge!"

"Seriously? That doesn't look at all stable for the two of us."

"It looks fine, Damon!"

He breathed out. "Fine. I'll go first." He stepped on the tree log, slowly.

"This car is sinking; go faster."

"Okay!" he snapped back. He stood fully onto the log and looked back to her. "Give me your hand."

She reached for him but ended up toppling forward, sending them both into the muddy water. They appeared again a second later, coated, and dragged themselves onto the dirt ground. Meanwhile, the pink car submerged beneath the mud.

"You killed Petunia!" Elena whined, sounding very much like Margaret. "And my backpack! Oh my God–my journal–" She splashed through the water.

"Elena, come on," Damon tried. She ripped the bag out from under the water and held it up triumphantly. Her bravado disappeared a second later.

"I'm dead. My parents are going to freak. I'm going to die. That's what's going to happen. They're gonna kill me!" His phone rang as she paced. "Why did I have to get in that stupid car with you? Don't you ever answer your damn phone?"

"Alright!" He pulled out his phone, walking a little ways away to answer it. "Hey, Sarah. Sarah, it's me. Can you hear me? There's no signal. Sarah, we–" Damon sighed and hung up, walking back over to Elena.

"Do you see this?" she demanded. "My bag is ruined. I can't even believe…" She started to walk away.

"Elena, where are you going?"

"Back to the beach, Damon. Where my sister is probably having a heart attack."

"Elena? The beach is that way." He pointed in the opposite direction from which she was headed. She huffed out a tired breath and began that way, Damon going after her.

After a few minutes of silently making their way to the beach, Damon, having given Elena some time to herself, jogged up to her side. "Hey. How are you doing?"

" _Now_ you're concerned?"

He seemed hurt. "I've always been concerned, Elena."

She looked over at him and her face lost some of its hardness. "I'm sorry. I just… I want to get home to my family. Beg for forgiveness and suffer the consequences."

"You know what I want? I want to have fun! For the first time in a long time, there's no news reporters, no questions or interviews. Just us, Elena, no crowds. I was having fun up until our little swim, and I thought you were too. So stop complaining, because I want to enjoy it!" His tone came out sharper than intended, and Elena's feet came to a halt.

"Oh, so you're gonna be like that?" she said. "You don't get what you want for the first time in your life so you get mad at _me_ because I'm bringing you down? I bet your friends chase after you when you do that. 'Oh, Damon, I'm so sorry I hurt your feelings.' But not me."

"You think _I'm_ a brat? What about you, huh?"

"What about me?" scoffed Elena.

He looked at her, his blue eyes piercing. "All I've heard from you for the past two days is complaints, incredible when all I've done is think about you!"

Her cheeks turned red but she went on walking, not looking at him. "So you call hitting me with a door twice, hiding me in your house, and wrecking my grandma's car being thoughtful? Oh how I pity your friends."

"You wish you were one." He stopped in front of her and she stepped towards him, only an inch or two from his face.

"I'd rather go down with Petunia," she promised him, her voice deadly soft. Elena moved past him and he followed her to, walking backwards in front of her.

"You know what I don't understand? When we were on our little… photography tour, I could've sworn... I thought you liked me." She looked at him without saying anything. "So I'm guessing I was wrong? Why don't you like me? Everyone likes me."

"Maybe that's why I don't like you," suggested Elena. "You believe everyone loves you."

"Because I'm likeable!"

"No, because you're a spoiled star."

"What does that even mean?"

Elena paused again. "You don't even see it do you?" she asked. "Damon, you're life isn't real. You park in no parking zones, you never have to wait in line. You buy anything you want at any given time. Your house is like a hotel. You have so many people working for you and you probably don't even know their names."

"Yes, I do," he disagreed.

"Name one."

"Tom."

She arched an eyebrow. "You just made that up."

Damon threw up his hands in exasperation. "'Ric knows everybody; it's his job!"

"And that's not normal. Your best friend is your driver. And have you ever even had a girlfriend just because you care about her?" Damon couldn't say anything. Elena shook her head and continued walking towards the lake. Damon called after her, "Wait, Elena; come on. You're saying I'm not a real person, but I am. What if I told you something that nobody else knows about me?" He came to a stop in front of her.

"What?"

"The minute I met you, Elena, I–" He suddenly fell backwards with a shout and Elena jumped forward, her eyes wide.

"DAMON!"

He jumped up in the water, pulling her down with him.

"I like the quiet," Elena murmured, looking at Damon with her head resting on her knees. She was wearing his hat as they sat on the edge of the river to dry off. The swim had cooled them both down considerably. He nodded slowly.

"I wish I could stay here," he told her, "where no one could find me." Elena eyed him curiously, lifting her head. "They all want something from me," he explained. "Autographs, interviews, a photograph."

"Even your parents?"

"Now that's more complicated. Sometimes I think they only care about the business of Damon Salvatore."

Elena sat up, pressing her hands onto the grass behind her. "That's not true. They're your parents."

"I don't know. I feel like all we talk about is the next movie deal or TV show, you know? My next big career move."

"Well, what do you think about it?"

"I think…" He thought for a second. "I think that if I get an offer, I can't turn it down."

"What about the tour? For your movie? 30 countries, twelve weeks. Seems like a lot to me."

Damon adjusted his hat on her head. It made him smile a little, but his words and tone weren't happy. "I don't really have a choice, Elena."

"See, that's where you're wrong. Everyone has a choice."

"Well, I know what I don't want to do," he said, trying to brighten his tone. "I don't want to disappoint anybody, especially my fans. I wouldn't be where I am without them and so I… I guess I just never say no." His voice quieted when he added, "Or anything, really."

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to just roll over when told to do so," Elena observed. "Or maybe I just don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"Your life. I mean, it's so different from mine back in Virginia," Elena said. "Everything you do, everything you say in public."

"Not everything. Not right now. Here, with you… I feel like I can be myself. Not Damon Salvatore. Not famous. Just me."

"And how do you like it?" Elena inquired, grinning.

He smiled at her. "I like it a lot."

She nodded, looking out at the water before meeting his eyes again. "Me too."

"Tell me something about you," he said suddenly, making her laugh.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything," he told her honestly.

Elena blushed and looked away. "That could take a while. I lead a very exciting life, you know." When she turned back to him, he was looking at her intently. "You're doing it again. That eye thing."

He smiled. "Oh, you mean this?" He crossed his eyes and she laughed loudly, shoving his shoulder lightly.

"Oh, comedy, not your next best career move."

"What? I'm funny."

She grinned. "Funny _looking_ , especially just then."

He tilted his head back, laughing. "Oh, please; you like me."

"You wish." She met his gaze again and could see the answer there. _I do._ He smiled a little at her and Elena forced her eyes away. "We should go."

He nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, you're right. Come on." He stood up and held out his hands for her to take, which she did. When he had her standing, they were inches apart. A small smile was trying to find its way onto Elena's lips. Releasing one of her hands, Damon bent down to pick up her bag. He placed it on her shoulder, gripping her right hand lightly in his larger left one.

In a few minutes, they'd reached the beach, standing hidden in the trees. "Look," Damon began, "I had… a really good time today, Elena." She smiled. "You are so different from a lot of girls I've known."

"Different weird or different annoying?"

He grinned. "Different surprising. I mean, you say things everyone else is afraid to say and… you make me see things about myself that I don't usually like to notice."

"You're pretty surprising too."

"Yeah? How?"

"Well, for one, you're a terrible driver. Which is strange for a guy with so many vehicles." Damon laughed as Elena remembered something else to make her teasing grin slip just a bit. "Do you honestly think I'm a brat?" He pretended to contemplate, and she smacked his arm, smiling widely.

"No," he assured her, grinning. "I think you're amazing."

"I think you're amazing, too." He smiled as they both leaned towards the other. At that moment, a surfer jogged out of the water and Damon jumped back from Elena, pulling the fedora further down his face. "What're you doing?" she asked him, laughing.

"That was way too close," he said, almost to himself. As if to clear it or remind himself of something, he shook his head. "Alright, back to the real world. You have the camera right?"

She nodded. "Why? Wanna couple pictures for yourself?"

"Well, you know how this works, right?" He appeared supremely uncomfortable. "This has to end here."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What ends here, Damon?"

"This. Us. We can't be together." Elena wasn't sure what to do. "No one can know about what happened today. Not even your parents."

"Why? They won't post it on a blog or anything, Damon; that doesn't make sense."

He shook his head again. "Elena, if we went down to the beach together and they saw us and took pictures… it would get crazy, and I can't afford for it to get crazy."

"Why does it have to get crazy?"

"Because I'm Damon Salvatore. You're just an ordinary girl."

Elena, any trace of her good mood and smile vanished, moved past Damon. "I should go."

"Wait, where're you going?" He ran ahead of her, confused. "Elena, what just happened?"

"You tell me, Damon. One second I'm amazing and in the next you're embarrassed to be seen with me?"

He held her arm, looking worried. "Elena, I'm not embarrassed by you."

"Oh, really? Because I think that if I was Caroline Forbes you'd rush us _both_ down there to get a picture of us together. But no, I'm just an ordinary girl."

"That's not what I meant, 'Lena, I meant you're normal. I want you to stay that way." His eyes pleaded with her to understand, but Elena refused to try.

She shook her head, walking past him. "Right."

"Elena, please, just stop."

She looked back at him, her eyes shining. "For what?"

Quietly, as if the words brought him physical pain, Damon turned his stare to the ground and said, "The camera. The pictures of us, I should probably keep them."

Even if she had tried, Elena wouldn't have been able to voice her utter disbelief at what he was asking of her. "You want my _camera?"_

"Just in case. I wouldn't want the pictures to–you know, get out."

Elena clawed the disposable from her bag angrily. "You want the camera? You want the pictures? Here." She threw it on the sand before him, as hard as you can throw anything at sand. "There's nothing I'd want to remember anyway." He kneeled to pick up the camera, brushing it off as he watched her start to walk away. She came back though, and he had to shove down the hope in his stomach. "I need money to get home," is all she said, holding out her hand. Damon retrieved a hundred dollar bill from his pocket and put it in her waiting hand. "I'm going to Hollywood, not Washington."

He shrugged. "Keep it. I still owe you for letting me stay in your garage." He smiled, but she turned again. "Elena, come on. I don't want to say goodbye like this."

She stopped again, spinning back around. "Fine. How about this? Let's forget this whole day ever happened. You won't talk about me and I promise that I won't talk about you."

"Go ahead and judge me, Elena, but you don't know what it's like. The paparazzi are vicious; they never go away and once they have you in their sight they won't give up until your fabricated life story is in print. They'd turn this turn it into something neither of us could've expected. Something ugly. They'll ruin everything."

"They don't have to, Damon," Elena said. "You already did." She walked away, leaving him to stare after her. She hurried to the phone-booth and shut herself inside, finally allowing herself to cry.

A few minutes later, Damon arrived, not having even bothered to put his sunglasses back on. Girls crowded around him, squealing and requesting autographs and pictures. Elena could see the crowd from her place in the booth. Damon had already reverted back to his normal, movie-star self.

The paparazzi were taking picture of Damon and the girls, but no one knew that along with these, they were also snapping photos of Elena.


	6. Pretty Little Liar

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Vampire Diaries**_ **or** _ **Starstruck**_ **or anything pertaining to either of these things except my own writing. I don't own the title of this chapter, which is based on the name of the show _PLL_. All rights for the owners of all of these things go to the rightful owners.**

The next few days of vacation, Elena's brain refused to let her forget about Damon and their day together. She missed his easy laugh and smile, his eyes. Eating wasn't her first priority for those couple days.

And eventually, the day inevitably arrived for the Gilberts to head back home, and Elena still couldn't make herself care about anything. Walking up to her grandma, she tried to smile a little. She hadn't told her parents about Damon, just like she'd promised him–but he hadn't said anything about her grandma.

"Are you going to be okay?" Joyce asked her granddaughter sympathetically.

"I hope so."

"Oh, sweetheart. Just give him some time. I know it hurts right now, but life has a way of working things out for the better," Joyce assured her. "And, hey, I've been trying to get rid of that ugly car since your grandpa died."

"I love you, grams," Elena murmured, hugging her grandmother tightly.

"I love you more, chickadee."

The doorbell rang at Damon's and he answered it to see his manager, Tyler Lockwood, standing on the stoop. He was holding up a picture of Elena, exiting a phone-booth.

"Elena Gilbert. Nice name, for a pretty girl."

"Where'd you get that?" Damon questioned, allowing Tyler to pass through into the house.

"Where do you think I got it, Damon? Andy Starr's had paparazzi following your every move for the past two days!"

"I know that; that's why I've been so careful."

"That's exactly the kind of thing I was afraid of," Tyler said. "Thinking you could handle it just by 'being careful.'"

By then, Damon's parents had entered the room. Both were looking frazzled. "Look, Tyler, just give us a chance to fix this," Lillian said.

Tyler sighed. "Alright. Make the story go away."

"How do we do that?"

"Damon, how do you think? You call Andy Starr, give her a new story, an exclusive. Say you don't know this girl, that she's just a fan who had been following you around all day."

"So you want me to lie?" Damon replied, incredulous.

"Damon! This is the tabloid press, alright? Not the Supreme Court. Say whatever you have to because I promise you, either this girl goes away, or you're stuck with a billion interviews on her."

The following afternoon, Damon made a guest appearance on Andy's show. Margaret was watching the show while Elena leaned against the back of the couch.

"So, we're talking about this girl, Elena Gilbert," Andy began. A picture of Elena appeared on the TV between Andy and Damon. Not even a flicker of recognition exposed itself in Damon's cold eyes.

"Yeah, I guess she looks kind of familiar," he said.

"Come on, Damon. We know you were at the beach with her."

He laughed. "Look, a lot of fans come to Malibu to watch me surf. I try to say hi to everybody that comes up to me. Maybe I signed an autograph for her or something."

Elena couldn't look away from the TV. It all felt like a car crash in slow motion.

"Well our sources say that she came all the way from Virginia to meet you," Andy told Damon.

"I'm sorry I hadn't gotten the chance to meet her."

Her parents also staring at the television broke off to look at their daughter. "You have to talk to us, Elena," Grayson said, not for the first time.

"What happened in California, honey?" Miranda added on. Both of their concern was evident, but Elena thought she was going to be sick.

"I can't talk about it," she said. If she had even tried to speak above a whisper, she knew she would throw up. "Nothing bad, I promise. I just–I can't. Trust me."

"So, you're saying that you've never met this girl before?" Andy was saying.

"I haven't. I mean, I don't know what she's saying about me, but I don't know anybody named Elena Gilbert. Sorry, Andy, but there's nothing left to tell."

Andy nodded, obviously disappointed. "Okay."

Damon looked directly at the camera with an empty smile; Elena couldn't take it. She escaped up the stairs, feeling the worried gaze of her parents and the glare from Margaret on her back.

"You heard it here first, folks. I'm Andy Starr, for Starstruck news."

Margaret followed her sister after a minute and said upon reaching Elena's room, "Okay, they need to go. Now."

Elena looked up from her journal. "I thought you liked being on TV."

"Yeah! But I need to buy a dress for the dance and they're blocking my car!" Outside the window, the street was full of vans and cars with news crews.

"Damon said this would happen," Elena said quietly. "He said it would get crazy." Standing, she added stonily, "Celebrities might have to put up with this, but I don't."

Elena opened the front door and glared out at the reporters, who rushed at the porch. "Elena!" they all yelled. An assistant to Andy, a woman named Monique, came forward with a microphone in hand.

"Elena! Tell us about your weekend with Damon Salvatore! We want the truth!"

Elena looked at her pityingly. "You don't want the truth," she said. "You only want a story. You take a good, normal person and turn them into your personal puppets. Build them up only to tear them back down when it suits you so you can sell magazines and TV shows. And Damon Salvatore is just one example. He's talented, successful. But thanks to you, he's had to give up the best things in life. Freedom. Privacy." Elena swallowed. "Honesty. You've created another celebrity. But you've wrecked him as a person."

Monique turned around and asked the cameramen, "Did you get that?" When they nodded, she looked back at Elena, her serious face in place. "Elena, just one more question. In your opinion, who is Damon Salvatore, really?"

"Who is he?" The words sounded foreign in her mouth, odd considering it was the same question Elena had been asking herself for nearly a week. "I don't know. The Damon Salvatore you're all so obsessed with… I can honestly say that I've never met him. And I wouldn't want to."

Back in Cali, Alaric and Damon were seated on the couch, watching the show. "I can honestly say that I've never met him. And I wouldn't want to." Alaric paused the scene on Elena's teary but strong and determined face. He looked to Damon.

"Didn't you say you liked her because she was so honest?"

Damon stared at the screen. "Yeah."

"Wow. Congratulations, Damon. You did it. You got her to lie for you."

Damon tore his eyes away from the television. "I didn't have a choice, okay?"

"Oh. Well, alright, then." Alaric stood and headed for the door.

"Hey, where're you going?"

Alaric turned on him sharply. "To find my best friend. Cuz he's not the guy I see sitting here now."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Damon demanded, standing up.

Echoing his words, Alaric said, "'I didn't have a choice.' That girl has been the answer to everything, man! Your life, your choice." He left Damon alone, whose gaze had slipped back to the television. To Elena.


	7. After All That We've Been Through

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Vampire Diaries**_ **or** _ **Starstruck**_ **or anything pertaining to either of these things except my own writing. You may recognize a bit at the end; it's from the song What You Mean to Me from** _ **Starstruck**_ **, which I don't own. I don't own the title, which is a line from the song Hard to Say I'm Sorry by Chicago.**

 **A/N: Final chapter! Thank you all for your amazing reviews, favorites, and follows. Your support has been fantastic. Thank you.**

Elena walked out of the bathroom the next day, modeling yet another dress for her sister and Mary. "Okay, come here and spin," Maggie ordered. Elena rolled her eyes but did as she was told.

"It's just not… girly, enough," Mary deduced.

"But imagine it on me. Girly-er right?"

Mary tilted her head, examining Elena and then glancing back at Maggie. "Hmmm… maybe."

"Why don't you just try it on yourself?" Elena asked logically.

"Stop complaining," her sister ordered. "We only have three hours before the dance. Try this one on." When Elena had gone, Mary smiled at Maggie.

"So, what was it like having reporters on your lawn?"

Margaret smiled, as though nostalgic. "Exciting. But hey, those people don't seem to get that I need my privacy too, you know?"

Mary nodded seriously. "We all watched your sister on TV and she looked like she lost her mind." Elena, about to walk around the corner into the room, stopped. "I mean, the way she made up that story about meeting Damon Salvatore? It was just so pathetic." Elena stormed past the girls, out onto the back porch. "Oops. Do you think she heard that?"

Maggie glared at her friend. "Mary, you're an idiot. Get out."

Mary's eyes widened. "But–"

Maggie pointed to the front door. "Go." Through the screen door, she could see Elena. "Elena," she tried.

"Leave me alone."

She opened the door. "I can't. I'm you're sister."

"Then what d'you want?"

"Go to the dance with me."

Elena wouldn't look at her. "I thought I was pathetic and embarrassing."

"Not all the time. Come on." Margaret held out her hands. "Let's go get prettied up." Elena stared at her sister's hands for a second before taking them and allowing herself to be pulled back inside.

At the dance, Elena and Maggie made their entrance arm in arm. "You look great," the latter told Elena. "Now, tonight, I don't want you thinking about Cali, okay? Focus on having fun, partying, and _talking_ to actual people."

"You know, Mags," Elena said, "in a weird way, you're kind of a good sister."

Maggie smiled. "Aw." Then she became serious and tacked on to that sentiment, "Pretend you don't know me." Elena laughed and shook her head as her sister disappeared in the crowded gym. Surrounding her were all of Elena's peers, already having the best time with their friends. But Elena had no idea were to even begin to join in.

She had only been standing alone for a moment, however, when the lights on the stage fell to a dim glow; then there was only a single spotlight. Someone walked across the stage into the light, and the girls immediately began to scream and shout. Damon Salvatore. Elena stared at the stage, feeling like a train that had come to an abrupt and unplanned halt.

"Elena Gilbert?" The whole capacity of the gym turned to look at her, but she couldn't move, unable to believe her eyes. She couldn't be so insane as to be dreaming all this, could she? "There're some things I forgot to say to you back in California." The students, with an 'Oooh,' felt a uniting sense of excitement over the welcome turn of events.

"Elena, I can't blame you for thinking that you never knew me at all," Damon began. "I tried to deny how you made me feel because I thought it would be easier if I let you come back here after the way we left it. But nothing I've ever done made me feel as wrong as that had. See, I thought I'd been protecting you from everything I have to go through every day, but I can see now that my efforts got lost along the way, and it only ended with my hurting you. I never meant to let you down, Elena, and I'll never make that mistake again. I can't afford to. Not when you're the one who says all those things no one else will say to me. Not when you somehow bring me back to who I am."

All the girls sounded an 'Awww' as Damon jumped off the stage. He stood in front of Elena, but she refused to give in.

"What did you think, Damon?" she wanted to know. "That you'd come here, deliver some of your perfectly crafted lines and I'd forget how badly you treated me?"

"Um… yes?" She raised her eyebrows. "No? No."

Her eyes turned up to him, she demanded, "Well? Which is it?"

"I just came to tell you I was wrong. About everything. Especially about you."

Andy Starr rushed in and stood beside the two with a microphone, the cameraman by her side.

"Don't you think you're a little late?" Elena, though she felt like crying, held her head high. "Everyone here thinks I was lying."

"I'm the one who lied." He noticed Andy in that second and a light flashed in his eyes. He grabbed the microphone from the 'news' anchor and stared directly into the camera lens. "I lied about knowing Elena Gilbert. I do know her. She's a terrible navigator and know-it-all." Damon turned to Elena. "But she's honest. And when she makes a promise, she keeps it." He lowered the microphone. "Elena, I'm so sorry that I hurt you. And I will never do anything like that again. Just… forgive me."

Elena glanced down at her feet. Should she forgive him? Would dealing with his crap be worth everything she'd get in return?

She looked back up at him, searching his face for the answers. She looked to Andy Starr. "Go away," she ordered. "Now." Andy immediately turned to her cameraman and pushed him until they could no longer be seen in the crowd. Then, Elena grabbed Damon's arm and pulled him out through the mass of people to the hallway, dead silence all around.

In the empty hall, Elena faced him.

"I know what I want to say," she said. "I want to act like everything's okay, like none of the bad in LA ever happened. But I'm not a liar."  
"'Lena–"

"It's my turn. How am I supposed to trust you? After everything?"  
"That's how this works, Elena; you give it a _chance_."

Elena looked at the linoleum floor. He was right about that bit. Being scared shouldn't be enough to hold you back, she knew, but she was just so unsure.

"And what would that entail?" she asked after a second.

"Go out with me, Elena. On a date."

"Would I have to wear a disguise?"

"No."  
"Would _you_ have to wear a disguise?"

"No."

That was it, then. It was either make up her mind now, take the chance, or let him walk out of her school and life like none of it had ever happened. But they would both know the truth. And dealing with that the past week had been killing her.

"Okay."

Damon, clearly expecting bad news, sagged. When he realized what Elena had actually said, he did a double take. "You're serious, right?"  
"And here I thought you were smooth with girls. Yeah. I'm serious. Don't mess up." She was half-kidding, but he nodded.

"I won't." He smiled a little at her, and Elena tried not to show how much she had missed it. But before either of them could do anything else, Margaret, who had cracked open the gym door, cleared her throat. Elena sighed.

"Damon, this is my sister, Margaret. Maggie, this Damon Salvatore." Maggie smiled unbelievably wide and nodded, then promptly lost consciousness. Alaric, however, had conveniently appeared in the moment to catch her.

"Continue," he told Elena and Damon, helping Maggie away.

Damon studied Elena for a moment before smiling and reaching into his pocket. "I almost forgot." He held up his sunglasses. "For you."

Elena took them from him, smiling approvingly. "You remembered." She slipped them on and then inquired, "How do I look?"

"Stunning, if that wasn't obvious." He pulled out a pair of glasses for himself and put them on.

"Thanks for this."

"Believe me," Damon said, "we wouldn't be having this beautiful moment" (cue a laugh on Elena's part) "if it hadn't been for your brilliant sense of direction."  
"And how is that?"  
"It brought us right here."


End file.
